


Break Down

by RottenBoneThief



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RottenBoneThief/pseuds/RottenBoneThief
Summary: My first major written contribution to this fandom and it’s literally this bullshit?? Sounds about right. You’re broken down on the side of the road and Vincent is not here to help. Tags/Warnings? : No Gore or anything, just some almost Non-Con. May make a part two. Vincent Metzger belongs to ElectricPuke!





	Break Down

Life happens. One minute you’re driving down the road and everything’s fine, and then the next minute, you’re on the side of the road with your hazards on. Honestly, you knew this was going to happen, your mechanic told you already you had a faulty alternator, but you were kind of hoping to get into the next town over before having to actually take the time to stop and fix your car up. Someone had mentioned a nice body shop not too far off the interstate, one that lead up into a real nice town, and you decided you’d try to make it that far. Well, you didn’t make it that far, but, thankfully, the owner of the place has a tow truck and they’re on their way to get your sorry ass.

So now you’re leaning against your car, arms crossed as you wait. The roads not too busy, cars whizzing by every so often, but nothing putting you in danger. The suns blazing, but the AC is out in your junker and you’d rather face the sun head on rather than melt in that sweltering tin can of a car.

That is, until /he/ drives past. You can hear him before you can see him. A loud, annoying engine. You look up and watch as a motorcycle starts to make its way down the road, revving the entire way. He’s speeding, he’s obnoxious, and you do the first thing that strikes you.

You bring your hands up to cup your mouth and holler,

“WE GET IT, YOUR DICKS SMALL” As the motorcyclist whizzes by. You double over, laughing at yourself. It’s the little things. You shake your head, leaning back against the car, smiling wider than you were before. Another car passes you, then two, and then you see him, again. The motorcyclist, coming back down this way. He’s not speeding, actually, no he’s… He’s slowing down. He looks behind him before pulling off, now directly behind your car here on the side of the road. You’re frozen. You’re thinking to yourself hey? Maybe this guy’s not an asshole? Maybe he’s checking to see if I need help? But there’s a sinking feeling in your gut telling you this is not friendly.

He puts down the kickstand, pulling off his helmet, and you have to remind yourself that there’s no way he actually heard you. No way he understood you even if he did hear your yelling. He walks over, a shit eating grin spread wide across his lips and you can feel the nerves in your stomach, the nerves in your chest. Your feet feel like pins and needles and suddenly, you’re very aware of the fact that the traffic really is sparse, and you’re all alone. One more car drives by, too fast to even see the panic in your eyes.

You’re being irrational, you tell yourself, over and over again. You smile some.

“Hey there! Thanks for pulling off for me, but ah, the tow’s already on its way!” You’re hoping being upbeat is going to make the situation better. He wiggles his pinky in his ear, staring down at you, lips still split in that smile.

“Hey there, yourself.” He sounds like a guy in a good mood, his soft southern accent giving him charm. You’re already feeling better.

“You ah, you mind tellin’ me what you were shoutin’ at me when I rode by?” and then your heart sinks again. The few seconds of relief are over and you’re laughing nervously, thinking maybe you can play this off, hopefully you can play this off.

You can play this off.

“I Ah, hahaha .. well ah, ya see…” you’re fumbling over your words, stumbling over your excuses. He ‘Tsks’ his tongue at you, tapping his fingernails against the trunk of your car, leaning against it, real close to you now.

“I believe it was, if I’m not mistaken, somethin’ about me havin’ a lil’ dick?” He looks down at you, eyes losing all their softness, glaring sharp at you. He’s leaning over, staring at you, teeth bared behind that sickening grin that’s twisting your stomach. You’re broken down on the side of the road in a town you know nothing about, with this big guy staring at you with eyes that tell you he’s probably going to eat you.

“It… I…” You press yourself back against the car as hard as you can, the hot metal warm against your shirt. You’re shrinking down. You’re not thinking clearly. You could slide over and open the door, crawl in your car, and lock yourself in, but somewhere in your mind, you know that won’t work. You look this guy up and down. He’d be faster than you. He’d be stronger than you.

You swallow hard and he raises a brow at you, that smirk still dancing across his lips. You chew on your lip, looking down, breaking the tense eye contact. A small gasp leaves you as he grabs your chin, lifting your face roughly, making you look him in the eye again. You glower at him, deciding if you have to look him in the eyes you’re gunna try real hard to let him know you’re not happy about it.

“Awww, cat got your tongue, Kitten?” You sneer at the pet name, remaining silent. He laughs, releasing your chin to ‘lovingly’ pat your cheek. You pull away from the soft slapping and he laughs again, sharper this time.

“Well I figured I’d better come back here and prove you wrong, dear. I’d hate for you to think something like that. The truth is a whole ‘lot better, ya know.” He bared his teeth again, leaning in close, his hair falling out of the way of his face. You could see better now that he had on an eyepatch, and judging by the scars across his cheeks, it wasn’t just an accessory. Something in you wants to push the hair all the way out of his face, but you’re too terrified to move in the moment.

“So ah… so what, you’re just gunna, pull your pants down here on the highway?” You’re laughing again, just as nervous as before, and part of you really wants to punch yourself in the face for the sassy remark. But, it seems to sit well with the other, because he looks genuinely amused and his smile seems more humored than ferral.

“No, stupid. Can’t really tell how big it is unless ya feel it, right?” Okay, so, well, he is not kind or genuine he’s a fuckin’ psychopath and you’re really thinking you should’ve tried to throw yourself into the car earlier because it is far too late now. You’re scared. You’re nervous. You’re wondering why you didn’t keep a pocket knife on you or something sharp.

You’re realizing you have made several mistakes, and you’re really not excited about any of this.

“Or, hear me out, or, I choose to believe you and we call it a day.” You give a small smile, a tired smile, a smile you’re sincerely hoping can convince the masses, or well, at least this one guy. Your eyebrows are knit together, worry lines are wrinkling on your forehead, and you’re suddenly reminded of the ridiculous premise of all of those shitty ‘Meet and Fuck’ flash games you used to play. Dear god, you’ve been reduced to a newgrounds flash game.

“See now, Kitten, that’s really not my style.” He grabs your hip roughly with one of his hands, his thumb pressing hard into the skin. You make a small, scared sound and curl in on yourself some, looking up. You could kick and thrash and try to run away, but knowing your luck you’d run right into oncoming traffic. You could go limp like a ragdoll and hope he gets bored. Or, you could face this nightmare head on and hope struggling and being a smart ass gets you somewhere.

You’re pretty much riding on option three.

“Dude, fuckin’ let go of me!” You want your voice to come out booming, demanding, serious. You kinda really just squeaked though, fear in your eyes. You were trying to convey threatening but you’re honestly looking a little “Dear-In-The-Headlights” and this guys into it.

“C’mon, Kitten, if you’re real nice I’ll be real nice, don’t make this harder than it’s got to be…” He’s purring in your ear and you’re squirming away from him. He smells like sweat and cigarettes and leather. Maybe if you’d ran into this guy at a bar, you’d /want/ him to take you home and talk to you like this, but here on the side of the road? With no one around? You’re horrified.

Fear is swelling in your chest, you can’t breath, and you’ve realized this guy is going to get his way and you can’t do anything to stop him.

Your eyes start to brim up with tears and he makes a ‘d’aww’ sound.

“Awww, hey now, c’mon. It’s alright. We’re just havin’ a little fun, you and me, right?” He’s holding you with both his hands now, the firm grip on your waist keeping you planted where you are. He leans in, licking a tear that’s dribbling down your cheek. You wince.

Don’t touch me. Stop.

“There’s no need to cry…” He’s working circles into your hips, squeezing softly at the skin.

STOP.

But no words are leaving you. You’re just shaking and trembling and small sounds are rolling off your lips and your eyes won’t quit watering. You could vomit. You’re frozen by fear, and for a moment, you think that’s all you can do. You think you’ll stay there, forever, petrified, but suddenly his fingers are trailing up, and they push under the cloth of your shirt and the second you feel his skin on your stomach, you snap.

Your hands fly up and you start grabbing and scratching. Your legs are trying to kick out but that grip on your side is strong. You’re throwing punches without form just trying to hit him, you’re clawing at his face, his jacket, his neck. You’re screaming like a wild animal, frantically thrashing yourself. 

He leans away from you, holding you back. He keeps you firmly planted to your car and his body as far back as he can. His eyebrow arches and he watches you dig your nails into his hands. Your tears are angry, you’re breathing hard.

You’ve got to do /something/.

He smiles and laughs some.

“Kitten’s got claws now?” He snorts, “What? You really tryin’ to say you don’t wanna fool around right now?” He rolls his eyes, sighing some, shaking his head as if you’re just being an inconvenience. You’re glaring at him. You hate him, you decide. You don’t care if he’s handsome, if he’s grinning, if he’s laughing, if he smells nice, you hate him. He sighs again and lets go of you, crossing his arms.

You do what you should’ve done to begin with. You fling yourself into the car as fast as you can, locking it, still trembling. Still seething. He rolls his eyes at you and taps the window, making a motion for you to roll it down. You refuse. He makes the motion again and shouts, 

“Roll this damn thing down or I’ll break it!” 

You watch him. He looks unamused, like he’s tired of this, like the chase got boring. Good, you think. You roll it down just a crack and he sounds exasperated.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, Kitten, I get it, i get it, I’m gone. You don’t wanna play~ You best hope you don’t run into my ass in this town again though, you got me?” He laughs some, grinning and cheeky He looks up the road and smiles more kindly.

“That looks about to be your tow truck there. Tell Cassie ya know Vincent and she’ll cut ya a discount.” He winks at you, tapping the glass with his knuckles before sliding his helmet back on, making his way back to his bike. You stay still, boiling in the car, angry and afraid. You don’t see him leave, you only hear the revving of the bike as it tears away down the road. Before long a big truck is backing up to you and a young woman is tapping on your window.

“Did you call about the tow truck?”


End file.
